


Cocktober 1: Ouija Board AKA Billy is DEAD horny

by Glitter_Bug



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy's dead, Hand Jobs, He's dead but he's still horny, M/M, Ouija Board, Swearing, Teeny bit of angst, but not all dead, ghost billy, mostly dead, the spooky kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Bug/pseuds/Glitter_Bug
Summary: Steve finds a way to talk to his dead boyfriend.Turns out that even when he's a ghost, Billy is still a bit of an asshole and still a total horndog.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 18
Kudos: 85
Collections: Cocktober Prompt Meme





	Cocktober 1: Ouija Board AKA Billy is DEAD horny

**Author's Note:**

> For the Cocktober prompts [here](https://cockasinthebird.tumblr.com/post/628612324946837504/cockasinthebird-cocktober-prompt-list-rules)
> 
> It's short and silly and I had so much fun writing it!

It’s a stupid idea, really, Steve thinks as he kneels down on his bedroom floor. The lights are off, for once, and the curtains tightly closed. The only illumination comes from the large circle of candles surrounding him. The ritualistic atmosphere is lessened somewhat by the fact that they’re his mother’s fancy vanilla bean tealights, and his room is starting to smell quite like an upmarket bakery, but Steve figures that, with the occult as with most things, it’s the thought that counts.

He leans over the Ouija board, places one finger gingerly on the little wooden triangle thing. _The planchette_ he remembers vaguely from the instructions on the box. _Focus your mind, and ask your question clearly. Be sure that you are ready for the answer._

“Is there-“ Steve’s voice is a squeak, a whisper. He clears his throat and starts again, ”Is there anyone there?” Nothing happens. Steve feels stupid. A hot rush of shame prickles his skin, even though there’s no one there- a fact he’s now painfully aware of- he feels embarrassed.

“Don’t know why I thought... So dumb. So fucking dumb. You’re not there.” He tugs at his hair, runs his fingers through it and kneels back.

Now he has no excuse. No reason not to move on. No reason at all to think that there’s even the vaguest whiff of hope that Billy Hargrove is still out there somewhere. Nothing at all unusual or _Upside Downey_ about the recurring dreams he’s been having. The dreams of blonde hair and blue eyes and a great wide smile. The words ‘hey there sweetheart, I’m here,’ which echo around his brain. They’re just the regular, boring old dreams you get after watching your boyfriend get impaled by a tentacle monster. Nothing special for Stevie, as per usual.

And then the planchette twitches, such a slight movement that Steve’s almost certain he imagined it. But there’s that dumb hope again, and he calls out ‘hello?’

Another twitch, more obvious this time, Steve trembles as he goes to place his finger back on top of the planchette. His finger has barely made contact before the object is shooting off to the top of the board, landing immediately on the YES. It wiggles in place, Steve can feel the force of it under his hand, the vibrations travelling up his arm.

“Billy?” he gasps out, his heart leaping into his throat.

The planchette flicks into the air, slamming down once more on YES, wiggling back and forth. Steve isn’t surprised that ghost Billy has an attitude problem too. He can imagine him standing there, rolling his eyes at Steve’s shocked expression.

“Are you OK? Where are you? Are you hurt? Can I-“ the planchette lifts up again. A hard slam against the board before spinning off onto the letters. Steve almost goes crossed eyed trying to keep up- but reading isn’t exactly one of his strengths, and Billy is flinging the pointer around at such a speed and with such energy that Steve just can’t keep up, can’t keep the letters straight in his head.

“Stop. STOP! I can’t- Billy I can’t tell what you’re saying. Please!” Frustration bleeds into his tone, and Steve feels tears pricking at his eyes. The first conversation with Billy after so long, a conversation Steve never thought he’d get, and Steve’s being let down by his own dumb brain.

The pointer stops immediately. Moves more slowly now, more deliberately, staying on each letter long enough for Steve to get it straight in his head. S-O-R-R-Y.

“Heh, it’s OK.” Steve wipes the tears away, “Lemme get some paper and we can do this properly.”

He talks to Billy all night. They figure out a system and the conversation flows pretty quickly.

Billy says that he’s OK- that he’s usually just floating around some kind of void. That he can sometimes come and see Steve, but he’d never been able to make Steve notice him. That he _has_ been talking to Steve while he sleeps, those words that filter in. That he’s not sure how long he’ll be like this.

And they keep on talking. Every night, nine pm, Steve will light the candles and get out the board and sit, ready.

One night, Billy seems particularly…pent up. Slams the pointer around the board so hard that it shoots off the edge a few times. Makes the flames around Steve jump and flicker. Even manages to make the curtains twitch.

“Are you OK, Bee?” Steve asks, looking all around the room.

I *slam* M-I-S-S *slam* Y-O-U-

“Oh Billy, baby, I miss you too. I miss you so much.” Steve looks back at the board as the pointer carries on.

R *slam* C-O-C-K *slam* *slam* *slam*

“You asshole! I thought we were having a moment!”, but Steve understands. He’s not been in the right kind of mood for any sort of _activit_ y. Not while he was mourning and pining and hoping so desperately, but now he can talk to Billy, knows he doesn’t have to let go just yet, he’s starting to feel those urges again. Starting to come away from their conversations with a familiar twist in his gut.

“I have an idea,” he smiles, “Can you see me? Right now?”

The candles flare higher, the pointer slams on the ‘YES’.

“Keep watching then baby,”

Steve takes off his shirt, tosses it into the corner of the room, mindful of the flames around him. He shimmies his jeans down, kicks them around his ankles, and then leans back on his elbows.

“You missing this?”

He doesn’t have to look to know exactly which word Billy is slamming the pointer onto. Steve starts to touch himself, cups himself through his boxers and lets out a moan.

“Wish it was you baby, wish you could do this to me.”

Steve feels a flare of heat as the candle flame rise even higher- and then suddenly there’s darkness. He gasps as he feels a cool hand across his stomach, feels a hard, muscular chest pressing up against his back.

“Billy?”

There’s no answer from the board, but Steve would know that body anywhere, knows the feel of those hands. Recognises the meandering path Billy’s hands takes down his body, around his hips, grabbing at his thighs and spreading his legs out further. A shiver runs through Steve’s body as cool fingers slide into his boxers, wrap around his cock and start to stroke. He feels something press against his neck, feels the imprint of cold lips against his ear. A soft breeze moves through his hair.

“Billy, I can feel- oh God- I can feel you,” Steve’s leans back further, and the invisible body behind him shifts slightly to take his weight. Billy’s hand around Steve’s cock never stops, continues on the same, practised rhythm. Steve can feel something stirring against his back, feels a hardness pressing into him. He reaches back but there’s nothing there, nothing he can hold on to. The hand on his cock stops suddenly, disappears for a moment before returning. He feels a pressure on his wrist, his hand being pushed away. Instead, Billy readjusts himself, so that Steve’s ass is positioned right on that hardness. Steve gets the message and rolls his hips, feels Billy’s cock rubbing against his ass. Chokes out a moan at the sensation.

Billy’s strokes are getting faster, his rutting against Steve matching the pace. It’s been too long, Steve thinks wildly, he’s not going to last much longer.

“Billy, I’m gonna-“ his words turn into a yell as Billy’s hand twists slightly, a clever little trick that always worked to finish Steve off quickly. Steve arches back as he cums, his ass grinding against Billy’s cock. The candles ignite again, the flames reaching higher than Steve has even seen them. A freezing wind whips around the room, sending the fire dangerously close to Steve’s half naked body.

“Shit, Billy, careful!” Steve scolds, moving himself back into the centre of the circle, “You nearly…” He stops, feels a weirdly familiar sensation on his back. He reaches one hand behind him, touches the skin there and his fingers come away glistening.

“Did you cum? Is this ghost cum?” Steve is half disgusted, half amazed. The substance is glowing slightly, but the consistency is pretty similar to what Steve is used to. He licks a tiny bit from his index finger. It’s not unpleasant.

There’s a clatter from the board. Steve leans over, watches the pointer move slowly.

‘E-C-T-O-J-I-Z-Z’ *slam*

Steve rolls his eyes. “We’re gonna have to see what other ghostly tricks you’ve got,” he grins.


End file.
